Thursday Post-Bleeding

This bleeding is unbearable. It has been for the twelve years that it has so afflicted me. It tears at me both literally and figuratively. I have spent all of my money, my parents money, my brothers' money, trying desperately to find a cure, and yet the bleeding has only gotten worse. I spent all of their money and now I feel as much like of a burdensome nuisance as I do an outcast. I can't work because of my uncleanliness. What's worse than that and the pain that accompanies it is the judgement that people heap on me. I hear them in the synagogues and the market place. "Look at her. She is an adulteress, she is a sinner!" "She is deserving of her affliction!" None of them are true, but that one hurts the most.
I hope today will be different. Today I am going to see the teacher, the healer. I am wearing a cloak so that neither He nor anyone else will see me. So for once maybe I will be able to speak with someone without being judged. If He really can heal me I must touch Him. I've heard the stories from people. Despite how people treat me I have still heard the stories, about Him healing cripples, and blind men, and casting out demons. Surely if He can do all that he can heal me too. What's more, maybe He can tell me why this is happening to me.
But I will not be allowed near Him. I'm not allowed near anyone ever since the sores appeared. I see only lepers and other sick people all day. But I will wear my cloak, cover my face. Maybe if I can just touch Him, just touch His cloak, maybe then I will be healed.
I make my way through the crowd, being careful not to touch anyone, I am far too dirty and shameful. I have heard that the Teacher treats people differently. My mother told me to come here, noting his compassion that is so different. Finally I get up to him; never have I been so nervous to touch cloth. But this cloth represents so much more: freedom from my bondage, a way out, a new life. I am behind Him, so he will not see my face, or my sores. I reach out for him, my feeble hand barely brushing by his cloak, and I waste no time quickly receding into the crowd.
Something is different, I feel...free. I did not think that it would be this immediate, I thought that it would take time. But I feel something supernatural has taken place inside of me. What they say about Him must be true, for I do not know how i know, but my bleeding has stopped. Twelve long years of constant shame an feeling so broken, and now all of it is gone. It is more than that though, I have been transformed.
My celebration is short lived. "Who touched my clothes?" He seems mad, but maybe if I just hide He won't suspect me. One of his close friends, something I desire ever so much, friendship, asks Him, "There are so many people crowding around you, and yet you can say 'who touched me?'" I hoped that that would stop His search, but He keeps looking for who it was. The guilt is eating at me, maybe He will be as compassionate as He is powerful. I have to come forth, but I am oh so scared. They still see me as unclean. What will they do? What will He do?
As I approach I realize what I have done and who this Teacher is. I cannot help but fall to the ground, fall to His feet, trembling. I tell him everything, too much of everything, including the twelve year history, although He listens as if He already knows. I beg for His mercy, telling Him that if it is any consolation, I have been healed.
"Daughter," He begins. Such a word to hear, as my parents had outcasted me when the bleeding started. "Your faith has made you well. Go in Peace and be freed from suffering." Such kind words, such compassion, such absence of wrath. And in front of all these people too. They will see me as clean now, I can finally have touch again. He has done it all, freed me, made me new, transformed me. I am so thankful to Him and to God. I must go tell people. You must go tell people!